A World of Trouble
by Sock Ninja
Summary: Female Italy and female Russia OCs of the author and I both have a soft spot for a certain blonde-haired man, but neither of them are getting very far...or so they think. Collab with Nia Carter
1. In which there is a Box of Tomatoes

A/N:

Sock Ninja: Nom nom nom.

Nia Carter: So yeah. Sock writes as Italy and I write as Russia.

Sock Ninja: I also write as Germany and Japan (most of the time. DEATH GLARE)

WE DON'T OWN HETALIA!

A/N:

Italy: Ciao~! This is the Hetalia fanfic that I'm writing with my friend, Russia! Will the fish die?

Russia: Yes, it will be awesome! And yes, the fish will die...

Italy: (gasps) Nuu! Not the fish! Though, when the fish dies, I can ask Japan to make them into sushi to go with my pasta! Vee~!

Russia: (sigh) Let's get on with the story.

Italy: Yes, yes, right. The story. Kukukukukuuu...

Italy stayed silent as mayhem erupted in the World Conference, and felt a small flush of pride as Germany was able to bring everybody into order. As the room quietened again, she looked at him fondly. She had always had a soft spot for him, but as far as she knew, only one other country knew about this. Italy had had many years, but had never confessed to Germany. She supposed now she was paying the price for her inaction, but at least she still had her memories. She could think back, to when she and Germany had first met. Memories still intact, Italy recalls hiding in a box of tomatoes...

.oOo.

**The time was WW1**

Italy giggled, smiling to herself. This was, ultimately, the _best hiding place ever_! Russia would never even think that she was in here! Who would ever think of looking in a box of tomatoes? She brought her knees closer to her chest, resting her chin on them, and closed her eyes. She was huddled up inside of the box, literally _locked_ inside, since the top was nailed on, and waited for Russia to find her.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven..." Italy counted, seeing how much time had gone by. "Sixty-four, sixty-five, sixty-six..."

Italy began to nod off, getting tired, and she leaned her head against the inside of the wooden crate. She jumped, however, when she heard footsteps coming her way, and hit her head on the top of the crate.

"Oww..." She groaned, and looked out of the crate through a small hole in the crate. She gasped, and immediately covered her mouth, backing up as far as the crate would allow her.

Italy stayed back up against the crate, hand still covering her mouth so that she couldn't make any sound. She could just see through the hole in the crate, and saw a _very_ handsome blonde walking towards her hiding spot.

.oOo.

Russia walked along the forest, almost skipping. A little while ago she had finished counting to 100, and was now looking for Italy in the thick woodlands. It was World War One, and the two Eastern Countries had nothing better to do.

She overturned a rock, certain Italy was hiding underneath. "Italy?" she called, but it was more of a question. Russia would _never_ tell anyone, but she was secretly afraid of the shadowy parts of the forests of the pathetic, weak-spined country.

Russia turned, to continue her search for Italy when she spotted someone's combat boots. Thinking rapidly, she jumped into a clump of bushes just as she caught a glimpse of the blonde man. Covering her mouth with one hand, as to not make any noise, she concentrated on not moving. She absentmindedly wondered if the invading country had seen her just as she caught sight of a large wooden box.

_How could I have not seen that? _Russia wondered, squinting to see the writing on the box. As the writing came into focus, she gasped quietly. _How could I have been so stupid? Of course Italy would hide in a box of tomatoes!_

.oOo.

Italy stayed silent, hoping that the man would just pass her by. She could see Russia's golden eyes glimmering from a bush nearby, and she almost smiled.

_So we're both hiding,_ She thought. _I wonder who he is._ She started again as the stick the man was holding tapped against the box, accidentally making the crate move. _Oh, damn! Russia, come help me!_ She screamed silently inside her head.

"I think someone is in there," The man said, with a clear German accent.

Without thinking, Italy replied. "No! There's no-one in here! It's just the box-of-tomatoes fairy!"

.oOo.

Russia's smile faded. _How could Italy be so dumb? Sometimes I really wonder about her state of mind._ Russia thought, tucking a stray strand of straight black hair behind her ear, intent on Italy and the mans' conversation, strange as it was.

She sighed. _I hope I won't have to come and rescue her like last time._ She thought, remembering the time when Italy had gotten stuck in a tree because of a stray cat.

Russia shook her head. Whatever her friend would get into, the ebony-haired nation decided to see how Italy would handle this encounter. She narrowed her amber eyes, though, just in case she needed to intervene.

.oOo.

"There is definitely someone in there!" The man said, and Italy began to panic. "Show yourself!"

Italy shook her head, even though she knew that he couldn't see her.

"There's no-one in here! Just the box-of-tomatoes fairy!" She repeated. She yelped as the crate began to tilt, and she realized that the man was trying to lift the top off. "Don't open the box!"

Suddenly, however, the lid was lifted off, and the man flew backwards as the crate fell back into its original position. Italy felt her heart beating rapidly, and popped up out of the top of the crate like a jack-in-the-box. The man stood up and walked over to the crate as Italy began to beg.

"Aaaah! I'm-so-sorry-I-lied-it-wasn't-the-box-of-tomatoes-fairy-at-all! It-was-all-lies-lies-LIES!" Italy cried, holding her clasped hands up as she begged. "Please-don't-shoot-me-I-don't-want-to-die! And-what-if-I-don't-die-but-am-just-mortally-wounded-and-forced-to-lie-in-a-pool-of-my-own-blood? I'll-do-anything-well,-within-reason,-I-don't-want-to-dieeee! Please-I'm-a-virgin! Where-do-you-think-they-get-virgin-olive-oil-from? You're-not-supposed-to-kill-a-virgin! We're-pathetic-enough-as-it-is!"

Italy looked about frantically as she begged, hoping that Russia would come and get her out of this position.

"Are you a descendant of the Great Rome?" The man asked, and relief washed over Italy. The tears stopped, and she looked hopefully up at the blonde.

"You know grandpa Rome?" She asked hopefully. She smiled. "I thought you were going to shoot me, but you're not going to do that!"

.oOo.

Russia stood up, yawning. "Well, I'm sorry to break this up, but I hate to think what would happen if this continued." she said, narrowing her amber gaze at the blue-eyed being blocking her view of Italy. She still didn't know if he was a friend of foe, so, in the meanwhile, she would be on her guard.

The blonde turned at the sound of her voice, and raised an eyebrow. Russia saw him mutter something, but couldn't hear the words.

"What're you doing here?" She asked, noting the rifle that was slung over his shoulder.

The man hesitated, then looked from Russia to Italy and back again. "I came to invade the country who is the descendant of the Great Rome," He said.

Russia could see Italy's face at this point, and facepalmed inwardly as she saw a smile spread across the country's face.

"Were you expecting her to be any more than that?" Russia scoffed, pointing to the stupid grin on Italy's face.

The man was standing at an angle now that he had both Russia and Italy in his line of vision, and was beginning to look a little embarrassed.

There was an awkward silence that stretched for a moment, then Italy looked from Russia to the man.

"Pastaaa!"

Again, another inner facepalm for Russia.

.oOo.

Somehow, by some weird stroke of misfortune, or luck, depending on who you talked to, both Italy and Russia were captured by the blonde, who they discovered to be another country, Germany.

Russia was bouncing a tennis ball off of the floor, then the wall, then catching it and throwing it again, whilst Italy was napping on a chair. Russia was quite impressed at how well-respected they were, even though they were prisoners, and barely looked up as Germany walked in.

"Are either of you ever going to try and escape?" He asked, seeming faintly irritated. Russia had noticed that he had a tiring patience with how lax they were at being captured, and at how they hadn't ever tried to escape.

Russia caught the tennis ball again, and looked at him. "Nah..." She said nonchalantly. She didn't mind staying here, after all. For one thing, there was good food here, and she hadn't been doing much anyway. _And_, if she was here, she could follow Germany around when she wanted to. She decided that she liked him, and Russia usually either _liked_ or _hated_ people. She liked Germany. She tolerated Italy. She hated America.

"Even the _French_ try to escape..." Germany muttered.

Russia rolled her eyes, and threw the tennis ball again, not bothering to aim it properly, and it bounced off the floor, then the wall, then Italy's head, then Germany. Italy awoke, screaming bloody murder, and Germany glared at Russia.

"What the Hell is your problem?"

Russia stifled laughter, and shrugged, completely ignoring Italy's freak-out, until the ginger clasped onto her arm, crying.

"Russia! Russia! We're under attack! America's come after us!" Italy cried.

Russia took the arm that _wasn't_ being suffocated, and patted the top of Italy's head.

"It was just a tennis ball," She said. She suddenly realized that Germany was staring at them with multiple expressions on his handsome face. Mainly 'what-the-fuck-just-happened' with a little bit of 'why-did-Russia-hit-me' and a teensy bit of 'I'm-really-pissed-off-right-now'.

.oOo.

Italy whimpered, still holding onto Russia's arm.

"So America's attacking us with _tennis balls _now?" She asked in a meek voice.

.oOo.

Russia sighed. _I give up._ She thought.

.oOo.

Italy looked from Russia to Germany, and the blonde rubbed his temples, pushing the door open.

"Hey, look at how the door just conveniently opened. You could totally run away if you wanted to," He said.

Italy hung her head, and followed Russia out. They looked around for a moment, then saw some squirrels.

"Heyy, I remember you!" Italy said, darting forward to a certain squirrel. "You were here last winter!"

Italy began stroking the squirrel and humming to herself, then carried the little furry friend back to Germany's house.

.oOo.

Russia got up from her perch on a small log, tucking her pencil back behind her ear. She had been sketching Italy holding the baby squirrel before her subject had moved. Turning, she followed her eccentric friend back inside, plopping down on the closest sitting-thing, which happened to be a stool. _God, I'm starting to label things like Italy does. Sitting-thing? What the hell is a sitting-thing?_ She wondered, shaking her head to clear it.

.oOo.

Italy walked past Germany, squirrel perched on her shoulder, and sat on the sitting-thing next to Russia. She hummed quietly to herself, and didn't notice the stares coming from the other two.

Germany shook his head, and turned around, heading towards the door.

"I'll be gone for a while," He said. "Don't do anything stupid."

Then he left, closing the door behind him, and Italy turned to Russia.

"So what do we do now?" She asked.

Russia shrugged, and looked at the clock. "It's almost five o'clock," She said. "Perhaps we should start making dinner."

Italy's hazel-brown eyes brightened, and she nodded happily. She stood up and bounded over to the kitchen. She disappeared for a moment from Russia's view, then popped her head out through the doorway.

"Pasta?"

Russia sighed, nodding. "Sure, pasta."

Italy clapped her hands together, then dove into the cupboards of the kitchen once more. At first, she could find neither the pot nor pasta, and she frowned. Russia came casually into the kitchen, and sat atop the counter, watching the European country looking around for what wasn't there.

"You know that the pots are up there," Russia said, pointing to a shelf atop the cupboards. Italy looked up, and blinked. She hadn't seen them up there. She pulled herself up onto the counter, into a standing position, then reached up and grabbed the handles of one of the pots. She brought it down from the shelf, and hopped down from the counter.

Russia then pointed to one of the unexplored cupboards. "And the pasta's in there."

Italy skittered over to the cupboard, and opened it. She reached up, shuffling a few cans out of the way, and at the back, with a thin layer of dust upon it, was a box of pasta. Italy smiled, and took it out, brushing the dust off it. She put it next to the pot, when a thought struck her. She turned and looked at her friend.

"How do you know where everything is, Russia?"

Russia shrugged. "We've been here for a few days, and I learnt my way around," She said nonchalantly.

Italy nodded. That made sense. She then turned and began to fill the pot with water, and when it was nearly full she moved it to the stove, accidentally losing some of the water on the counter due to splashing. She put the fire on, and for a moment she just stared at the water that was now dripping off the counter. Then Italy shrugged. She could clean it up later. She bounded over to the box of pasta, and inspected the contents warily. She smiled, deciding that it was still safe, and took it over to the pot. She watched the water inside for a moment, and when it began to boil she dumped the pasta inside.

Italy began to stir the pasta, and hummed to herself. She hardly noticed Russia leaving, but when her friend came back she was holding a small television, and Italy's curiosity was sparked. Russia fiddled with the antennae for a while, trying to get a clear station, and eventually she was able to get the news.

At first, Italy wasn't that interested. She never really paid much attention to the news anyway. If ever she wanted information about what was going on, she would just ask Russia, who had the answer to almost everything. However, when the reporter began talking, mention of Italy's older brother caught her interest.

"_The German forces are invading France relentlessly," _The reporter on the screen said. _"It doesn't look like France will be able to take much more of this."_

Italy blinked, and then frowned, forgetting to stir for a moment.

"I can't believe Germany would invade older brother like that!" She exclaimed. She looked to Russia, wanting an explanation for what was going on.

.oOo.

Russia looked to her friend, and sighed inwardly.

"It's the World War," She explained. "France's on one side, Germany's on the other. It makes sense that this would happen."

She watched as the other country tried to comprehend, and then Italy frowned again.

"So, what side are we on?" Italy asked.

Russia hesitated, thinking for a moment. "Well, we aren't on any side," She said. She paused, then continued. "But for the next World War, because I know that there'll be one, we should probably be on a side. I say we should be on Germany's side." She waited for her friend to respond, hoping that Italy wouldn't question her motives.

Italy nodded hastily, however, and Russia began to nod as well.

.oOo.

Italy was glad that Russia had explained it, and went back to her cooking as the reporter started talking about some random crap. She smiled to herself. Next World War, they'd be able to stay at Germany's house all the time! She began humming again, pleased. She didn't actually mind all that much, now, that Germany was invading big brother France. France had always been an asshole anyway.

Italy began humming again, and didn't notice when Germany walked through the door. However, at this point, Italy was singing and dancing around the kitchen.

"~Germany, Germany, Germany is a really-really nice place! Even though I'm your prisoner, you give me food, and it doesn't suck like English food! Sausages with cheeses, always taste so goood! It'd be heaven for a dog, yeah that's Germany!~ Yahoo!" She sang, swinging a lavender flower around and using it as a microphone.

She turned around, saw Germany, and stopped in her tracks. For a moment, there was silence in the kitchen, the only noise being the small television, which had lost the channel that it had been on.

"That was good," Germany said, and Italy basked inwardly in his praise. "When did you come up with that?"

"It was kinda an on-the-spot thing," Italy admitted.

"Oh." The blonde said, and looked around the kitchen. Russia was still sitting on the counter, there was water slowly dripping off the other counter, as well as some stray bits of pasta, the bubbles from the boiling water were spilling over and getting all over the stovetop, the empty pasta box lay on the floor next to the trash can, the refrigerator door was open, from when Italy had gone to get cheese and tomato sauce, and the dishrags that used to hang neatly in a line above the sink where strewn across the floor.

"Clean this up before dinner," Germany said with a sigh, turning and exiting the kitchen.

Italy looked around, confused and completely unfazed by the mess. Wasn't this what a kitchen was _supposed_ to be like?

.oOo.

Russia shrugged, and got off the counter, carefully moving away from the spilled water. "You better clean this up. He looked pretty mad, and we don't want to screw this up. Remember, we need an ally for World War 2." The black-haired nation said, retiring to the other room, where she preceded to fall asleep, relieving her from the headache she got while listening to Italy's obnoxious singing.

_Russia was riding a horse in the middle of an arena, and at first she was confused. Then, however, she realized that she was in a Russian ballet, and the horse was prancing around the perimeter of the circular-shaped arena in a pool of light. She was standing on her toes on the horses back as the cinder-grey creature cantered around. Russia wasn't looking at any particular spot, and somehow she knew what she was wearing. A shimmering black dress that clung to her frame, with dark red tips. It only went down to halfway along her thighs, and poofed out. She closed her eyes, and the red glitter on her eyelids shone in the light. When she re-opened her eyes, she was no longer in the Russian ballet. She was in the middle of a ballroom, with a brilliant red evening dress that hung on one shoulder. Russia looked around, but there was no-one else there. There was soft music playing, and suddenly a hand touched her arm, turning her around. She gasped slightly as she saw that it was Germany, and somehow on a silent signal, they began to dance. _

"Russia! Russia!"

She was awoken harshly as Italy began shaking her shoulder, saying her name over and over loudly. Russia opened her eyes, sending a death-glare to the other country.

"What?" Russia hissed, sitting up. She hated being awoken, _especially_ if she'd been having a good dream.

Italy cowered, skittering a few steps away, then hesitated, as if she'd forgotten exactly why she'd awoken Russia. "Uh, dinner's ready!" She said suddenly, then bounded out of the room. Russia rubbed her eyelids, then stood up, following after.

As Russia came into another room, she saw that the table had already been set as well. She went and sat down, seeing that Germany and Italy were already there.

Russia: (evil laughter) You guys don't know whats gonna happen! :3

Italy: Noo you doo~oon't!

Germany: Wunderbar. I'm surrounded by idiot fangirls.

Japan: I haven't made an appearance yet :3


	2. In which Japan eavesdrops

A/N:

Nia Carter: This is chapter 2 of the fan/crackfic, whatever you want to call it. I'm not picky ^^.

Sock Ninja: I'm so happy... I'm actually working on a fanfiction for once (Hasn't worked on other fanfics in forever. *dies*)

A/N:

Italy: (waves hands around like a git) Yeay! Another chapter! 3

Russia: Capitals, Italy, CAPITALS.

Italy: I don't have to if I don't want to, ri~ght?

Russia: (_I should just give up now and save myself the torture.) _Yes, you don't have to if you don't want to. (_not_)

Italy: ^^

**The time was somewhere near the end of WW1**

Italy, miraculously, was silent for most of the dinner, eating her pasta with more manners than Russia had ever thought she had. She even volunteered to clean up afterwards, something that Italy had never, ever, _ever_ done before. She went around the table, picking up Germany's and Russia's plates, then went off to the kitchen, with no skip in her step, either.

Russia stayed sitting at the table for a while, very confused as to what was going on. She was going to take this chance to try and ask Germany about the alliance she and Italy had discussed, but when she looked to the blonde she saw that he was tired from fighting France all day. She smiled inwardly and stood up, taking the glasses, which Italy had missed, with her to the kitchen.

When she got there she saw Italy slowly washing the plates. Russia walked up silently, wondering what was going on. It was indeed a miracle that Italy was silent, and that she was actually helping instead of taking a siesta, but at the same time it was slightly disturbing.

Russia set the glasses down near the sink, and began to help clean up, staying silent. She was wrestling with her better nature, trying to decide on whether or not she should ask what was wrong. A few more minutes of silence ensued in Russia's debate with herself, and they had finished washing the dishes when the black-haired nation came to a decision.

"Uhh, Italy?"

Italy looked up from drying her hands, and blinked to show that she was paying attention.

_'Something is definitely weird here,'_ Russia thought to herself. _'She's usually not this quiet. I don't think she's ever gone this long without talking.'_

"Is something wrong?" Russia asked.

There was another moment of silence, and Russia was considering whacking the side of Italy's head to 're-boot' the European nation, when Italy replied.

"I-" Italy began. "Well-...no. Nothing is wrong."

.oOo.

Italy looked down at her feet as silence ensued. She wasn't quite sure if her friend believed her or not about what was going on, but somehow that was okay with her right now.

"Well, alright, then." Russia said, and Italy was certain she heard the disbelief in the nation's voice.

Italy took that opportunity, however, and turned and left. She walked quickly out of the kitchen, and into the living room. She sat down on the couch, so much like how Russia had before, and brought her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs and falling asleep by some peculiar miracle.

.oOo.

Russia watched, one eyebrow raised questioningly, as Italy left the kitchen. She hesitated, then followed the strange country. She watched Italy sleep for a few moments, then picked up the smaller country and carried her down to the basement. She set the sleeping form of Italy down in a conviently placed sitting-thing, the switched on the interigation light.

"Wake up!" she yelled, slamming her atlas onto the table with a loud 'BANG.'

.oOo.

Italy jerked awake, eyes wide when she heard the loud noise. Her first reaction was to look around frantically, then she opened her mouth to call for Russia. However, before she could call out, she saw her friend standing behind a table.

"Oh, Russia!" Italy exclaimed, and tried to stand up. She wasn't able to, however, as the ropes around her kept her still. She frowned. "Ruuusssiiaaa..." She said. "Heeellp mee?"

.oOo.

Russia pursed her lips. "Sorry, but no-can-do. I know you're hiding something." she said threateningly, turning the light so Italy's face was lit up by its harsh white glow.

She raised one arched eyebrow, daring Italy to lie. Her inner nice person told her to stop terrorizing Italy, but she shut the annoying voice out.

"And don't lie, either. Remember what happened to Turkey?" she said sweetly, tapping the edge of a steel ruler against the table in front of her.

.oOo.

Italy gasped, eyes widening once more in fear. Her lower lip trembled slightly at the memory of what had happened to Turkey, and she shook her head to expel the images.

"I-well-er-I-...umm..." she said, unsure of what to say. The European nation looked around the room, trying to think of something else to say. "I don't know what your talking about!"

.oOo.

Russia shook her head sadly. She advanced on the ginger, wielding the ruler like a sword. She pointed the ruler-sword at Italy's throat.

"You secretly don't like pasta, don't you!" she accused, narrowing her golden eyes.

_And all this time, Italy had insisted I eat the bland noodles, telling me they were good for my health. She didn't even like them herself!_

.oOo.

"No!-I-don't-like-Germany-what-are-you-talking-about?" Italy exclaimed, not paying attention to Russia's question, and unaware that she had just told the other nation what was on her mind.

.oOo.

"I knew it!" Russia had a look of pure triumph on her face before it clouded with confusion.

"Wait, what? You like Germany?" she said, rasing one eyebrow in disbelief. This was unusual for the ginger. Or, at least, it had never happened during the course of Russia and Italys' friendship.

.oOo.

Italy opened and closed her mouth like a landed fish, although it was to no avail. The cat was already out of the bag, anyway. All she could do now was run away verbally.

"I never said that!" Italy replied, voice rising as she lied. "Where did you get that idea fr-"

.oOo.

"Wait, you like Germany-san?" Japan questioned, coming out of the shadows in the corner of the room.

He had already made preperations with Germany about an alliance, and so he had already acquainted himself with the seeing these two, and having them interrupt the peace that he had in the basement before, he had decided to see what they were talking about. Now, he had learned something about one of them. However, since he was quiet and refrained from speaking most of the time, this fact would probably stay with him.

.oOo.

Russia quickly rearranged her expression into her poker face. She was shocked at seeing Japan step out of the shadows, and cursed herself mentally for not checking the corners. It seems that all her time away from annoying and creepy Belarus had softened her self-preservation skills.

It was a good thing Japan had interrupted when he did, otherwise he would have learned one of Russia's secrets - that she was in love with Germany as well. It wasn't in Russia's nature to hide secrets about herself, especially when her only friend was having the same problem she had. Thank god for the Japanese.

.oOo.

If it hadn't been for the fact that Italy was already tied up and she had just given away a precious secret about herself, she would have screamed at Japan's sudden appearance. Instead, she just shrunk down in the chair she was tied up in, trying to dissapear like Canada.

She looked from one person to the next, hoping that by some miracle she'd be able to distract both of them at the same time.

Suddenly, Italy was struck by inspiration when she felt hungry once more.

"PASTAAAA~!"

.oOo.

Germany, who was checking over his firearms for tomorrow's fight against France, suddenly realized that he didn't have nearly enough bullets. He sighed, and threw the rag that he had been using to clean them over his shoulder. Standing up, he walked over to the green door of the basement.

He opened the door, and was met with the Italian's yell.

"PASTAAAA~!"

Germany blinked, closed the door, thought about it for a moment, then opened it once more. When no more yells about food were to be heard, he walked down the stairs to an...unusual... sight.

Italy was tied up in a chair, Russia was holding a ruler like a sword against the European's throat, and Japan was standing near a dark corner with his usual blank expression.

"What is going on here?"

.oOo.

Russia saw the German's form in the corner of her right eye, and lowered her ruler.

"Oh, nothing. We were just deciding whether we should be your allies. Italy agrees." she said nonchalantly, cutting the ropes on the back of Italy's chair. With a flick of her black hair, she helped her ginger-haired friend up and shot Japan a stare that would wither the dead before fixing her golden gaze on Italy.

"Well?" she prompted.

.oOo.

Italy followed after her friend, keeping her head down so that neither of the males would see the blush that had appeared on her face when Germany had entered the room.

"Uhh, I just remembered that I have a very important conversation to have with my squirrely-friends before I go to bed." Italy said, scampering up the stairs without another word.

.oOo.

Russia blinked twice at the sight of her disappearing friend, then turned back to Germany and Japan.

"I-uh, well. I have to make sure Italy doesn't get sacrificed by the squirrels to the Fox Gods. So bye!" she said, waving before hightailing it up the creaky basement steps and out the door, slamming it with a bang.

A/N:

Russia: Mwahahahahahahahaha! Next chapter, we FORMALLY meet Japan. Hehe.

Italy: I sort of fear for Japan's sake... I don't know what Russia is planning... O.O

Japan: ^^U

Germany: What was with you two in this chapter? You were weirder thna usual.

Italy: O/O Well-err-you see.. *runs away*

Russia: *clears throat* Anway, see you guys/gals in the next chapter!


	3. In which there is a FILLER

A/N:

Sock Ninja: Okay, so I know we haven't updated in, like, 7 months, but that's because we got halfway through writing chapter 3 and Nia went away. So, while I (continue to) wait for her to update her part, I'm posting a little filler-chapter (Which does NOT contribute to the plot-line!)

Nia is coming back in June, so I'm sorry that you'll have to wait (again) for another update!

Oh yeah, and I would like to thank Metas Sweet Angel for reviewing! And yes, we are continuing, just slowly!

A/N:

Italy: Ve~! Nobody else is at Germany's house right now, so I'm going to go explore!

* * *

**The time was somewhere between WW1 and WW2**

Italy's legs swung back and forth off of the sitting-thing in Germany's kitchen as she stared at a squirrel outside the window. The creature's large dark eyes stared back at her, unblinking, and its little grey nose twitched as it breathed.

Suddenly Italy blinked, and she pouted, losing the contest. She turned away from the squirrel and to the pack of cards that had been her entertainment until the little animal had come along. Italy picked up one of the cards, flipping it over so that she could see the face. It was a Jack of Hearts, and she put it on top of the spread out pile of cards, which had once been so orderly.

She stood up and was about to call for Russia, the cure to her boredom, when she remembered that Russia wasn't there. As Italy wandered through the different rooms, she remembered that Germany had left also. Italy came back to the living room, and sat down on the couch.

"Japa~an!" Italy called. "Are you he~ere?"

There was no response. Either Japan wasn't one to yell (which was entirely possible), or he wasn't in the house.

After a few seconds of processing the thought, Italy jumped up. If nobody was here, what was she to do?

Her hazel-brown gaze fell upon a door that she hadn't noticed before, and suddenly an idea struck her. She would explore around Germany's house!

Italy smiled to herself and pounced on the door. She turned the doorknob, and tried to push the door open.

Nothing happened.

Italy turned the doorknob the other way, and again pushed the door.

Again nothing happened.

The nation tried pulling the door, and it gladly opened for her. She felt a rush of exhilaration at the prospect of what the door could be hiding, and her eyes widened as it swung open.

There was a wall.

Italy blinked, and reached forward to touch it.

Yup, definitely a wall.

Italy shrugged, closed the door, and skipped along to the next unexplored part of Germany's house.

"Hey, hey, Papa, could I have some wine? Hey, hey, Mama! Hey, hey, Mama! I can't forget the taste, of the bolognese we ate before!" She sang to herself as she skipped. "Draw a circle, that's the Earth! Draw a circle, that's the Earth! Draw a circle, that's the Earth! I am Italia~"

She slowed down as she came to Germany's room. The door was closed, and for a moment she eyed it up. She had been told on many occasions to keep her hands to herself, to not disorganize anything, but she had never been told to stay out of Germany's room.

She stepped forward, and Italy pushed against the wooden door. It slowly turned, and Italy took a peek inside.

It was, in a word, orderly. The bed was made, not a single crease in the pristine white cover, there was a bookshelf with military journals, next to it several drawers. Italy turned and saw a table with a map of Europe on it, next to a map of the world. A lamp hung above them on the ceiling, and what looked like playing pieces were scattered about the maps.

Curious, Italy walked towards the table, not noticing how her feet made marks on the vacuumed carpet. As she came closer to the maps she noticed how different parts of the map had colored films over them. China, England, and France had red films, whereas Russia, Italy, Japan, and Germany had blue films. A few other countries here and there had either red or blue films over them, and as Italy looked closely at the Europe map she noticed that Switzerland had been crossed out entirely. She made a mental note to ask Russia about that later.

With that in mind, Italy looked around the room once again, but when she noticed nothing new, she skipped away and down the hall.

She soon found a closet, but it housed nothing interesting. A few cleaning supplies and a broom. The broom was much too small for Germany to use, and it seemed familiar somehow, but Italy couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Italy put the broom back and continued along.

There were only three rooms left that Italy hadn't been in yet: One was Japan's, one was Russia's, and she didn't know what the other one was. The doors stood next to each other in one hallway, and the country looked from door to door, unsure of which one to look into first.

She quickly played 'Eenie Meenie Meinie Moe' and her finger landed on Russia's door. Italy reached forward and turned the doorknob, only to find it locked. She turned to the other two doors, and tried Japan's.

Italy looked inside, and when she saw a little cat sitting on the windowsill beckoning her in she stepped through the doorway.

One of the first things that Italy noticed about Japan's room was that everything seemed to have gotten shorter. The bed was a soft mattress on the floor, with a short table at the foot of it, and a desk with papers spread neatly over it stood on one side of the room. A little tree sat in a pot on the windowsill next to the cat, little leaves fluttering gently in the wind that came in through the window.

Italy's eyes travelled to the side of the room opposite the desk, and her hazel-brown eyes widened slightly at the sight of many katanas placed carefully on a display on the wall. Italy blinked a few times, then slowly backed out of the room.

She then turned to the final door. For two seconds Italy stared at it, and then quickly opened it.

Immediately she saw the difference between this room and the others.

Unlike the other rooms in the house, which were nigh glowing with cleanliness and organized perfectly, this room's clean-standard was much lower, and there was no discernible method of organization. Clothes were thrown in a pile behind the door, the bed was unmade with the blanket hanging halfway off, several stuffed pandas were sitting together next to a desk, and a handful of birdseed lay next to the open window.

Italy looked around the room, wondering to whom it belonged. She came to a door, to what she assumed to be a closet, and opened it.

"Ve?" She was met with darkness, and her voice seemed to echo. The country's mind suddenly filled with horrible ideas of what could be lurking in the darkness, and she hurriedly felt around the door for a light-switch. She felt the switch and quickly flicked it, letting out a breath of relief as the darkness was swept away.

Italy stepped forward into what she had previously thought was a closet. Around her were books. Rows and rows of books, stretching out past the end of her vision. The nation walked over to one of the shelves, and picked up a book, opening it and beginning to read.

"_The Great Prussia's Diary, Volume 128_

_I was completely awesome!_

_Side note: that Hungary guy is annoying."_

Italy turned the page, and was about to read more when she heard raised voices.

"Italy! Where are you?" Russia's voice called. "We're back!"

Italy jumped, and hastily put the journal back, not bothering to put it in the same place as where she had gotten it from. She dashed out of the room, back to the hallway, in time to hear Germany's yell.

"ITALY! WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING IN MY ROOM?"

* * *

A/N:

Sock Ninja: I know this is shorter than the other chapters, but it's also a filler, so it's allowed to be short!

Oh yeah, and I have put references to things in this chapter. Can you find them all?


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